


Sleeping Beauty

by EchoThruTheWoods, Razziecat (EchoThruTheWoods), WandererRiha



Series: My Friend, Goodbye [4]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Dirge of Cerberus: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: F/M, M/M, My Friend Goodbye
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-11-12 16:35:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11165775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EchoThruTheWoods/pseuds/EchoThruTheWoods, https://archiveofourown.org/users/EchoThruTheWoods/pseuds/Razziecat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WandererRiha/pseuds/WandererRiha
Summary: In her coffin of crystal, the maiden slept for many years.When she awoke, despair in her heart and revenge in her soul, everything had changed.All those who had wronged her were dead already.What then, had she to live for, especially since she could not die?





	1. Chaos Redux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth's mother is not as dead as everyone thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was formerly part of "My Friend, Goodbye".  
> Decided that it would work better as its own thing.

Chaos was immortal. If there was one quality to such beings, it was patience, and Chaos needed abundant patience in dealing with humans. He - Chaos really had no gender, but had gotten used to this designation - also had an ego nearly the size of the planet itself. 

To think he’d been outsmarted by a human, a mere, fragile, short-lived mortal, was intolerable. It was also indisputable and irrevocable. 

The human Vincent Valentine had slipped free of his body while Chaos’s back was turned. The ridiculous headmates had flown away into the dark as well, dying along with Valentine, and good riddance! But now he was in a bit of a difficulty.

The woman Lucrecia had been more right than she knew when she deduced Chaos’s role in the eventual demise of the planet. Chaos needed a host in order to fulfill his destiny, and Lucrecia had provided him one - for other reasons entirely, but the fact remained, she had done it, and Valentine had been an adequate host. Stubborn, overly emotional and given to fits of childish rebellion, yes; but adequate all the same. And now he was gone.

Chaos had woken too late to stop the degradation of Valentine’s body, or the dissipation of his spirit. Without the protomateria in his body, Valentine could not not have prevented Chaos from taking control. Not to destroy the planet, not yet; but no immortal being should be caged by mere flesh and bone, his power dimmed and held in reserve like a spare weapon. 

And yet it seemed as though he was in some way bound to the materia. He was aware that the crystal had been taken by someone not Valentine, carried away. He sensed cool darkness, a soft glow, and then...a splash? And the retreating heat of a human body.

And then nothing.

He’d almost fallen back into sleep when he sensed movement. The touch of a hand. Heat and light. The sound of a voice, cracking as though it hadn’t been used in a long time.

“I remember this….I remember.”

The crystal orb glowed in her hand, white as the full moon, bathing her face in light. So beautiful...The urge to hold it close, always, was overwhelming. She cradled it to her breast, where it grew warmer, warmer, tingling, prickling, ah! Euphoria rushed through her, as sweet and delicious as love’s release. Her hands, empty, fell to her side. A voice came to her, rising from the depths of her heart.

“Daughter, we shall do well together.”


	2. Revive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being partly-alive isn't all it's cracked up to be.

The voice inside her head was deep and gravely, alien and yet vaguely familiar. It had been so long since anyone had spoken to her. There should be a face to go with the voice; a name. Try as she might, ghosts of memory slipped through her grasp like smoke. Hadn’t she known this voice? Didn’t she know the person it belonged to?

A face formed in her mind: long and fair with dark eyes and black hair.

_Vincent?_

The face smiled. _Hello, my love._

Love? She tried to recall if he had ever said such a thing to her before, but her memory was hazy. She was reasonably sure someone had… But had it been Vincent?

 _Do you doubt me?_ Vincent asked, reaching and taking her hand. His fingers were long and delicate for a man, yet deceptively strong. He could have broken her arm if he chose to, but he didn’t. He would never hurt her. She remembered that. Instead he pulled her close, into a gentle embrace. It had been so long, she fell into his arms willingly.

 _I have missed you,_ Vincent murmured into her hair.

Lucrecia could not reply, tears blocking her words even as they cascaded down her cheeks and into the fabric of his jacket. Unable to respond in words, she buried her face in his shoulder and hugged him tight.

 _Shh,_ he soothed, petting her hair. _Do not be grieved. We are together now. Nothing ever need separate us again._

 _I’m sorry, she managed at last. I’m so sorry, it was an accident, I never… never…_ She hiccoughed, gasping for breath, for words, but none came.

 _Do not distress yourself,_ Vincent told her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her onto his lap. _You are not to blame. Hush, now._

She did her best to comply, gladly leaning her head on his shoulder and snuggling close.

 _Did you miss me, my love?_ he asked, sounding amused.

_I did._

_Would you like me to stay?_

_Please._

_I will never leave your side. Is that what you wish?_

_Yes._

She could feel his smile as he leaned his cheek against her hair. _Always?_

_Always._

_Then by your side I shall stay._

\--

Lucrecia did not remember waking, did not remember much of anything, really. All she knew was that for a long, long time there had been nothing but darkness; her guilt and her loneliness a constant, endless state of existence. She had drifted cold and frozen in emptiness and now…

She sat in a shallow pool of cool water. She thought it was water. Maybe it wasn’t. It felt a bit too thick, too slippery. How strange. It was only then that she realized how thirsty she was. Scooping up a double handful, she sipped from her cupped hands. Well, she’d intended to sip. A moment later found her slurping the too-thick water as fast as she could gulp it down. It tasted flat and stagnant, but soothed her parched throat. She didn’t like it, hated the flavor, but could not get enough. Already her stomach was so full it was beginning to cramp. Exhaustion forced her to stop, to brace her arms against the sandy bottom just to hold herself up.

She no longer felt thirsty, or even vaguely ill. Her stomach hurt, but the pain was fading, overridden by sound and image. It was as if the heavens had opened before her, filling her mind with the voices of thousands of people, each with their own story, own grain of wisdom to impart. She tried in vain to separate one voice from the others, to seek out a speaker the better to listen to them and them alone. Stiffly, clumsily, she hauled herself upright. For a moment she stood unsteadily on legs wasted too thin to support her weight for long. She stumbled forward into the darkness, seeking out one voice among countless others. After two steps her legs gave way and she collapsed to the hard stone floor, lost to the music of an infinity of words.

\--

What had possessed the woman to drink raw, stagnant mako, Chaos was not entirely sure. There was a second presence within her, but it was subtle, so quiet he could barely discern it. Dismissing it for the moment, he turned his attention to the mortal’s body. Without a will to pilot it, her mortal shell lay senseless and inert on the cavern floor. It was an opportunity not to be wasted.

Although all her limbs were intact, her physical form was weak and marred by damaged caused long ago. She did not possess enough muscle, enough strength on her own. Reaching deeper, Chaos felt wings erupt from her back, horns from her head. He passed a forked tongue over small, sharp teeth and stretched as if waking from a long nap. She was smaller, much smaller than Valentine, but she would do very well for the moment. It felt good to walk again, to stretch muscles and feel gravel as it crunched underfoot.

The sun was sinking behind the rim of the vast bowl of the lake, the sky dimming to twilight. All around him night creatures buzzed and hummed; sounds of high summer. The coming night was beautiful and clear. Now to see if the sky remembered him. Crouching low, Chaos spread his wings and leaped.

It was glorious to stretch his wings again, to feel the wind in his face, the tug of gravity against his own monstrous strength. Or what should have been his monstrous strength. The clouds were beckoning, the stars a dazzling map of light that begged to be explored. He climbed among them, wings pumping increasingly cold air as he rose higher and higher before diving in a kamikaze swoop toward the ground. He looped around clouds, chased the wind, and frightened a flock of birds. He flapped again, seeking to touch the moon, but his wings would propel him no higher. Rare were the moments when he had experienced pain or fatigue, now he felt both in double measure. It must be the mortal; her body protesting his control and exertion. She was not yet strong enough even for this.

 _Hungry…_ a voice whimpered at the back of his head. _Thirsty…_

It did not sound like the mortal, and only hours ago she had tried to drink the dark mako well dry. Surely she could not want more? Yet the alarm blare of pain vibrated throughout her small body. Pain meant something was wrong. Perhaps it would be wisest to land. The spires of the Nibel Mountains loomed nearby.

 _There,_ the voice agreed. _Food. Hungry._

 _Alright, alright,_ he thought irritably. He remembered the place well enough. Nibelheim had seen the initiation of more than one unholy union. However, if memory served- the mortal’s and his own- there was mako high in the mountains. A reactor had been built there to house her precious specimen, the creature Jenova. It was not a place that held happy memories for any of them, but it was the nearest thing at hand. It would have to do.

There were men in white uniforms with rifles in their hands standing guard all around the reactor. Chaos had not expected this, and could not be bothered with pleasantries. The mortals’ headache fueling his actions, he knocked aside the first two with a swipe of his claws. He barely noticed as their blood splashed across his legs, creating a trail of little red footprints as he climbed the stairs of the reactor. There were more humans in white inside, and they soon met the same fate. In the back of the human’s head, the hungry voice laughed.

Once inside, he didn’t bother with ropes or ladders, simply jumped lightly down from the catwalk and into the mako well far below. The reactor was oddly silent, none of the hoses sucking up the sea-green liquid; none of the wheels turning, every valve cold and silent. Almost at once a red rash erupted on the mortal’s pale flesh, but she took no note. She had been entombed in dark mako, and light mako was frequently a shock to the system even to the living. It was warmer than dark mako, and carried more energy. Taking a half-step back, he let the hunger seize control of one arm and watched, bemused, as she ladled mako into her mouth.

It took a while, but at last she breathed a sigh of contentment and lay back on the narrow ledge that served as a walkway before plunging down into the depths of the planet’s crust. The sea-green mako was barely an inch deep here, but warm and invigorating to a body that had been frozen for so long. Her hunger seemed satisfied for now, but Chaos wasn’t sure how long that would last. Given how quickly the mortal’s body had tired, it might be best to give her time to rest, and perhaps to feed a second time before leaving the reactor. He had no desire to stay here any longer than he had to. The prison of the Crisis was not his idea of a vacation spot.


	3. Going Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's over, isn't it?

Vincent woke. What time was it? Oh gods, he was going to be late, the chief would skin him alive.

He sat up, rubbing his eyes. How much had he drunk last night? He didn’t feel hungover, though. No headache, no stomach cramps. He stretched, luxuriating in the flex and pull of muscle. Damn, he felt great. 

But...where was he? This wasn’t his room. It wasn’t even his apartment. He appeared to have fallen asleep in a field. Tall grass, dotted with pale flowers, waved in a light breeze. The air smelled fresh and clean, like the first real day of spring. 

He spun slowly on one heel, searching for anything familiar. There wasn’t a building in sight, just gentle, rolling meadows as far as he could see. He scratched his head, wondering idly why his hair felt wrong...too short? And his hand...he examined his left hand. It looked the same as it always had, nothing wrong with it…..Nothing wrong with it, why was that so important?

“That you, Valentine?” The voice came from behind. Vincent turned. 

“Veld?” Gods, yes, it was Veld, his amber eyes full of the sun. Grinning, he threw his arms around Vincent. 

Vincent accepted the embrace, returned it, holding tight to his best friend, partner, lover. Tears sprang to his eyes, but why? Hadn’t they just seen each other a day ago? He pulled back, taking Veld’s left hand in his own. The solid warmth of his hand was familiar, and yet…

Memory flooded back, rushing over him, through him, and he gasped, letting it come, letting it fill his head and his heart until he could hold no more. Veld held onto him until the torrent had washed him clean. 

“Oh gods,” Vincent said. “That really happened, didn’t it? All of it. Lucrecia, Hojo, Sephiroth, Chaos. And...I died. Twice.”

“Suck it up, Valentine,” said Veld, with no rancor. “It’s over. We made it through.”

“We’re really dead? This is...the afterlife?”

“Have I ever lied to you?”

“Never.” 

How strange to be dead. He didn’t feel dead. He felt...young, and capable, full of energy. Veld looked the way Vincent felt, and that was a gift, like the gift of being once more in his arms. His mouth kept wanting to smile, and it was hard to fight it. It occurred to him he didn’t need to fight anymore, ever again, and that was the strangest thing of all. 

“There you are!”

Veld and Vincent both looked up. A woman came strolling toward them, dark and graceful, with sharp, snapping eyes. “About time you got here!”

Veld gaped. “Tally?”

She came up beside them and tossed an arm over first Veld’s, then Vincent’s shoulders. “Been waiting forever for your two reprobates. Come on, boys. Might have a little job for you…”

They set off, walking together. There was no hurry. Wherever they ended up, they’d get there in time. With Veld beside him, Vincent could do anything. Or nothing.

Either way, wouldn’t it be something?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The character Tally appears with the very gracious permission of Drak. Thank you so much!! :D


	4. Old Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life goes on.  
> So does the Afterlife.

It began as a ripple in the sky, a tremor in the fabric of the Lifestream. 

Tally stopped in mid-stride as the air darkened around her, and the breeze turned cold. A shiver ran through the incorporeal earth beneath her feet. Her spine prickled in warning, and she turned, seeing only the usual trees, grass, flowers...all now fading to dull yellow and brown, as if autumn had struck them dead. A thin cry sounded in the distance, trailing off into silence. 

“A wailing on the wind,” her grandmother would have called it. A sign that something was wrong. And what could go wrong in the Lifestream, this river of souls that she now called home?

There was one person who might know.

She resumed walking, faster now, keeping her target in mind. Soon, the old oak tree came into view, its wide-spread branches waving in the wind. Tally walked up and stopped before the small, slender brunette in the pink dress, sitting on the ground with her back to the tree, a chain of daisies in her hands.

“Aeris, what the hell is going on?”

Aeris turned large green eyes up to Tally. “The Calamity has awoken.”

Tally blinked. “Are you shi--uh.” Somehow, she never could swear much in this woman’s presence. “Are you kidding me? After all this time?”

“I wish I was,” said Aeris. “I feel her. She’s weak, and uncertain, but she’s active again. I haven’t worked out where she is, exactly, but the stronger she gets, the easier she’ll be to track down.”

 

“And the stronger she gets, the more of a threat she is, too.” Tally shook her head. “Poor old Gaia just can’t catch a break!” Too agitated to sit, she began to pace around the tree, taking care not to trip over the tangled roots. “What can we do? Is there a way to call out the troops, so to speak?”

Aeris smiled. “From what I can tell, this will need more of a surgical strike, and we’re in luck. The troops are just arriving in the meadow. Will you go and greet them?”

“Anyone I know?”

The sweet smile turned mischievous. “Oh, I think so.”

\---

As far as Veld was concerned, this was more good fortune than an old rogue like himself deserved. He’d taken his own life out of shock, grief and loneliness, and here he was in the Lifestream with the lover he’d followed into death, and the woman whose guidance had shaped him as a man. All he needed to make the afterlife complete were Sarah and Felicia. They had to be around here somewhere.

“Veld, are you even listening?” Vincent waved a hand in front of Veld’s face. “Gaia to...uh...well, anyway, pay attention!”

“Sorry, Vince. And Tally. Tally! My gods, it’s good to see you again!”

“You, too. Both of you, even if you two were the biggest pains in the ass I ever had to deal with.”

“Come on, Chief, you know you loved every minute of it.” Vincent grinned, a sight that Veld thought he’d never tire of. After all those years of sorrow, Vincent was free. Young, happy, healthy. Well, as healthy as you could be when you were dead. 

Screw semantics, he’d take this gift the gods had granted them and hold on tight.

Yet even in the midst of joy, there had to be a catch. Fucking Jenova was back again on Gaia. How the hell many times did she have to be killed?

“You’re sure about Jenova, Tally?”

“Aeris is sure, and that’s good enough for me.”

“Aeris. Will we see her?” 

“If she wants you to.” Tally shrugged. “She comes and goes. I suppose you might consider me her deputy.”

“I’m not clear on why, though,” Vincent said. “I thought the afterlife was all about rest. I thought one went to sleep and didn’t have to deal with things like this anymore.”

“Well, here’s the thing.” Tally folded gracefully to the ground, crossing her legs. She patted the earth next to her. “Sit down, boys. Get comfortable.”

They complied, Vincent exchanging a worried look with Veld. 

“Okay, here’s how it works,” said Tally. “You start out here. It’s sort of an in-between, a way-station you might say. You can rest if you like. You don’t have to do a thing. No one’s going to force you to do a damned thing you don’t want to do. You don’t even have to interact with other souls if you don’t want to. Sleep for eternity if that’s what you want.”

Vincent grimaced. “I did enough of that in life, thanks. What else have you got?”  
“Can we interact with the living?” Veld asked. It seemed important to know, though he was afraid to ask himself why.

“Sometimes,” Tally said. “But let me tell you the rest. Gentlemen, you have a choice before you: You can remain here, in this halfway realm, for as long as you like. If you do, there may be times when you’re asked to step in somewhere, to help solve a problem in the living world. It’s tricky, and limited, sometimes frustrating as hell, and you might fail.”

“So just another day on the job,” Vincent said, lips twitching as he tried not to smirk. 

Veld smacked him lightly on the shoulder. “Let the lady finish.”

“Thank you, Veld. Here’s the deal. You can stay, or you can move on to whatever comes next.”

“Which is?”

“No one knows. You see, none of those who’ve gone on have ever come back to tell us.”

“The gods don’t have much imagination, do they?” Vincent grumbled. “This is just like life!”

“Not entirely. I did tell you that interaction with the living is possible. But those who move on are just...gone. Maybe they’re reborn, maybe they just dissipate into nothing.”

“Does it...hurt much?” said Vincent, very quietly. He kept his head up, but wouldn’t meet their eyes. Neither Veld nor Tally laughed at him.

“No,” said Tally, one hand on Vincent’s arm. “At least, moving on doesn’t. I can’t swear to what might happen to someone who’s reborn.”

Veld shrugged. “They pay their money, they take their chances. This is a choice we have to make. Can we think about it?”

“Of course. Take all the time you need.”

“I can’t decide yet,” Vincent said. “What about Jenova? I’m assuming Aeris wants our help with that.”

“We need to pinpoint where Jenova is,” Tally said. “Then we’ll have more info to work with. And you can still make your choice. You’re not obligated to stay and mess around with this, especially after all you’ve already done in life.”

Vincent looked at Veld. Veld looked at Tally.

“You know us better than that, Chief,” said Veld. “If there’s trouble to get into--”

“Don’t remind me,” she said, but couldn’t keep the grin off of her face. “Let’s see if we can find Aeris.”

They did, and Veld was highly amused to see Vincent blush as Aeris embraced him. She had a hug for Veld, too, although they hadn’t been what you’d call friends during life. It was a bit more complicated than that for a Shinra Turk and a Cetra.

“That’s all in the past,” said Aeris, as they all sat in a circle under the oak tree. “This is a new beginning for both of you. Did Tally explain?”

“Yes, but we’re putting that on hold,” said Veld. “Can you tell us any more about Jenova? Where is she, what’s happening?”

Aeris folded her hands in her lap. “She’s alive and kicking. I’m getting some very violent images, I’m afraid. Mako, and blood, and---” She shook her head. “She isn’t as strong as she was before, but there’s also something different about her. She feels...human. And there’s a shadow overall, something very large and dark, with a will of its own.”

“Aeris,” Tally murmured, “you’re scaring me. And that’s not easy to do.”

“I’m sorry. But this is what I’m picking up.” She glanced around the circle, gaze touching each of them in turn. “Will you help me get a closer look? Then I’ll give you time to decide what you’re going to do.”

Vincent nodded. “Yes. What do you need from us?”

“Join hands,” said Aeris, holding out a hand to Tally and one to Vincent. 

“Hippie circle, eh?” said Veld. “We’re not going to sing, are we? Valentine can’t carry a tune in a bucket.”

Vincent managed to roll his eyes while still keeping a dignified expression. “See what I have to put up with?”

“Hush,” Tally said, taking Veld’s left hand, while Vincent took his right. “All right, Aeris, what’s next?”

“Focus on your memories of Jenova,” said Aeris, speaking to Vincent. “You dealt with her when she ensnared Sephiroth. Remember what my father said of her, remember what she was like when Sephiroth acted out her will...remember…”  
Veld kept one eye on Aeris, one on Vincent. Aeris’s words lingered in the air, remember, remember…

Another voice whispered through Veld’s mind. Jenova, you bitch, where are you? Wasn’t killing Sephiroth enough for you? Show me where you are…”

It was Vincent’s voice. What the hell…?

“That’s it,” Aeris murmured. “Feel the ripples in the Lifestream? That’s Jenova’s touch. Follow them back to their source...yes, like that…”

Vincent’s thoughts continued to echo in Veld’s mind. Gods, if only he could see what Vincent and Aeris were seeing! He looked at Tally, who shrugged and gave him a sympathetic smile; apparently she couldn’t see either.

Time, such as it was, passed slowly, while Aeris encouraged Vincent to keep at it, remember, keep looking...

Vincent’s agitation grew, sparking in Veld’s mind until he shook his head, trying to dislodge it. 

“I had it,” Vincent muttered, “but I’ve lost it! Aeris?”

“Nothing. She’s gone! But...there’s something else causing a shake-up in the Lifestream, something not Jenova. Larger, darker, much, much older…”

“Older than Jenova?” 

“Yes,” said Aeris. “There, look, Vincent, do you see…?”

 

Vincent’s hand tightened around Veld’s. “Oh, gods…!”

“What?” Veld turned to Vincent. “What is it?”

“Lucrecia,” Vincent breathed. “It’s Lu. I don’t understand…”

“What? Are you sure?”

Vincent gave him a look that could have flayed a dragon. “It’s Lucrecia, my Lucrecia! Do you think I can’t tell?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Veld said, stung by the intensity of that my. “I can’t see what you’re seeing.”

“It’s her.” Vincent blinked rapidly, breathing hard. “It’s Lu. But she’s been walled up in that cave for decades, what made her...Ah!” 

He jerked violently, as though he’d touched a live wire, and dropped both Aeris’s and Veld’s hands. “Chaos!”

Aeris, Tally and Veld stared at him. Vincent scrambled to his feet. “Chaos has her! Or she has him! I don’t know...I...Oh, gods, I thought he’d gone back to the planet! Why is he awake again?”

“Calm down, Vince.” Veld looked at Aeris. “Any ideas, Madam Cetra? This is more in your line of expertise.”

“No.” She spread her empty hands. “It’s not the End. There would be far more dramatic effects on the Lifestream if it were. But Vincent is right, I sensed Chaos very clearly.”

“So,” said Tally, “it appears that Lucrecia has Chaos bound to her. And we have no idea where Jenova is or what she’s doing. People, this is not good news.”

“No shit,” Veld muttered, and bit his lip. “Sorry, ladies. So what now?”

“Let me think about it,” Aeris said as he pulled her to her feet. “Trust me, we will act! In the meantime, the choice still stands. You and Vincent must decide if you’re staying here, or going on. This is your right, and nothing can be allowed to prevent it.”

“I have pretty good idea what I’m going to do,” Veld said. “...Vince?” He turned to look at his partner.

Vincent was nowhere to be seen.


	5. Spectre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Past catches up with the Future.

Despite her small stature and fragile constitution, Chaos did not regret taking the woman Lucrecia as his vessel. Paging through her memories had proved fruitful. Valentine had been street smart and strong, and while by no means dimwitted, did not possess the mental acumen of the petite researcher. It was flattering in a way to discover that she and Valentine’s sire had made the study of himself and his siblings their life’s work. In most respects they were spot on, or very near the mark. In others, however, they were woefully misinformed. It might be amusing to answer her questions and point her in the right direction should she ask.

Yes, she would make an adequate emissary if ever she built her strength up again. She was always hungry, constantly needing to feed. Mortals needed to refuel regularly, but she wanted neither meat nor bread, but mako. This was a bit strange, but Valentine had had many of his own physiological peculiarities. If that was what she needed, Chaos had no arguments.

He had let her drink her fill in Nibelheim, allowing her several days to rest and feed. Once he deemed her sufficiently restored, he seized control again and took to the skies. Gaia had taken a beating in recent years, but at present was not in immediate danger. He had a mind to inspect the damage himself. The Weapons of old had proved largely useless; making more mess than they prevented. A massive crater now lay in place of one of the Cosmo mesas, and the shoreline of the Eastern continent had been entirely rearranged. He was just passing over the desert and the absurd bird pole stuck in the middle when the small voice spoke up again:

_‘Hungry…’_

“Again?” he groused. Surely it had not been that long since the last time she’d fed. Then again, mortals tracked time in much shorter increments. Chaos almost had the hang of counting days, but hours and minutes were not worth bothering about to an immortal.

 _‘Yes,’_ the voice insisted. _‘Hungry. Thirsty.’_

“Fine,” Chaos grumbled. North Corel was nearby. She could drink her fill there.

There were more guards here, but they were easily disposed of. The mortal gave a contented sigh as she waded into the warm, bright liquid and cupped her hands to drink. Funny. She’d been submerged in dark mako for decades. It had taken years for Valentine to dry out to the point of consciousness. Chaos would have thought the woman would be beyond saturated, but apparently not.

“Are you happy now?” he asked.

 _‘Mm-hmm,’_ the voice replied, mouth full. _‘Yummy!’_

Chaos couldn’t help but snort.

\--

Normally Tseng was happy to receive a new file of photos and surveillance footage. More evidence was always a good thing. This, however, might be the exception to that particular rule. More deaths had been reported- this time from the Corel reactor- as well as sightings of the assailant. The creature had been captured on film this time, and looked eerily familiar. The costume of scale and bone, the impossibly pinioned wings, and the jagged, mask-like crest were all things he had seen before. The body that bore them, however, was now female. Evidently Chaos had found himself a new host and Tseng had a sinking suspicion he knew who. Although there were no clear shots of her face, the long brown hair hanging down her back between her wings was clue enough. Lucrecia Crescent had revived.

Maybe chucking the Chaos materia back into the mako well _hadn’t_ been such a good idea. He hadn’t thought the demon would seek a new host; hadn’t imagined Lucrecia might still be alive. Clearly he’d been wrong on both counts. To his knowledge, Chaos was not evil so much as indifferent to human life. That explained the murders. The problem with an offender without feelings was that one had no leverage over them. There was nothing and no one they cared for. Vincent had barely kept Chaos in check through protomateria and sheer bullheadedness. How this petite little woman was to control a Force of Nature, Tseng had no idea. Perhaps he already had his answer: she couldn’t.

Picking up his desk phone, Tseng dialed an extension. “Ciss?”

“Yeah Chief?” Cissnei answered.

“We have a situation. Call in the old crowd. I need a face-to-face.”

“Sure,” she replied sounding non-plussed. “All of ‘em, or just the local ones?”

“Local,” Tseng decided. “We can always call for backup later.”

\--

Barret frowned at the surveillance photo. He’d seen this woman only once before. He and Cloud had gone with Vincent over the mountains and behind the waterfall, leaving the others behind. Inside the cavern had been lit by a dim purple glow. They’d followed Vincent deep inside, toward a lake of dark mako. At the center of the fountain had been an enormous pile of crystallized materia. Inside one of the largest spears, a woman slept.

For several long, silent minutes Vincent had stood and looked at her, tears welling unnoticed in his eyes. After a while he’d shaken himself and walked back toward the entrance without comment. They’d camped overnight on the rim of the lake. Vincent had visited the cavern once more- alone this time- and returned with an antique rifle slung over his shoulder. They had not asked, and Vincent had not volunteered any information.

“Who is this?” Barret asked, reasonably sure he at least knew her name.

“Dr. Lucrecia Crescent,” Tseng said, sliding a folder to each of them. Cloud took one and paged through it, as did Tifa.

“Wait, _that’s_ Sephiroth’s mother?” Cloud asked. “Vincent’s old girlfriend?

“The short answer to that is yes,” Tseng told them. “Years ago she was a researcher; an assistant to Vincent’s father, Dr. Grimoire Valentine. We don’t have a lot of information on her. Everything drops off about fifty years ago. Officially, she died in childbirth, but there’s one thing wrong with that.”

“Sephiroth would have been forty-nine this year, not fifty,” Cloud finished.

Tseng nodded. “Exactly.”

“Admittedly, that’s kind of soon to have another baby,” Tifa put in, “but it’s not impossible that she might have had other children.”

“It’s possible,” Tseng agreed, “but there aren’t any records of a failed pregnancy, though that doesn’t mean much. It wasn't easy to find any documentation on her at all. Someone tried to erase her from the company archives, but they didn’t get everything.”

“That’s not suspicious,” Cloud remarked dryly. “If she died delivering a second baby, what’s she doing terrorizing mako reactors?”

“I...may have returned the Chaos materia to the cavern…” Tseng confessed, looking uncomfortable.

“So she wasn’t dead,” Tifa observed. “Like Vincent, she was in stasis.”

Tseng nodded. “Looks that way.”

“Damn,” Barret remarked. “Guess it’s true- hell hath no fury an’ all a’ that.”

“Maybe it’s not her,” Tifa mused. “Maybe it’s Chaos.”

“That’d be my guess,” Tseng agreed. Turning his computer monitor to face them, he played the surveillance footage. Cloud blinked as Chaos-Lucrecia tossed a WRO guard twice her size and weight into a wall. Tifa wasn’t tall, but she was solidly built. Lucrecia wasn’t far off height-wise, but was probably thirty pounds lighter. Despite her ageless face, her limbs looked frail and bird-brittle. There was no way she could have done that on her own.

“What’s Chaos want in the mako reactors?” Barret asked.

“We’re not sure,” Tseng began. “It doesn’t look as if the kills were premeditated. She’s not targeting anyone, just retaliating against the guards that attacked her. The thing is, we have footage of her going in, but not coming out. What Chaos is after, we have no idea.”

“Where else has he- she- hit?” Cloud wanted to know.

“Nibelheim.”

“So she’s heading east.”

Tseng nodded. “Looks that way.”

“Junon’s the next reactor in line,” Barret mused.

“Yeah, but that’s underwater,” Tifa reminded him. “She’ll have no choice but to head straight to Midgar.”

“Right,” Tseng agreed. “So we’ve got to be ready.”

\--

The thing about Midgar’s reactors was that they were all defunct. Barret knew this for a fact. He’d blown up one and was currently helping to dismantle the other seven. Well, five. They’d already gotten two out of the way.

Removing what was left of the mako was a slow, painstaking operation. Containment was paramount: Midgar had suffered enough. No one wanted to deal with accidental leakage and the resulting fallout.

Tseng coordinated the placement of Turks and troops with the WRO commander. The object was to capture rather than kill, although they wouldn’t hesitate to use lethal force if it proved necessary. Cloud, Tifa and Barret set themselves at strategic points, one at each of three of the remaining reactors. 

“I wish Vincent was here,” Tifa said over her PHS. “He could probably talk her down and end this without any bloodshed.”

“Maybe.” Cloud was less than convinced. “If Chaos is in control, Vincent might not have had any choice but to shoot first and ask questions afterward.”

Barret listened in, but kept silent, patrolling the catwalk over the mako well at his assigned reactor. A thought kept nagging at him, that maybe they were in the wrong place, or they had missed something in their planning.

He glanced down into the well, wondering what the appeal of mako could possibly be to an immortal being like Chaos. It didn’t make sense. It made even less sense for Lucrecia. She’d studied it, was an expert in its uses...wait. What was being done with the mako?

Once extracted from the reactors, it was cleansed of any impurities and transported to a storage facility near Midgar General, where it could be available for medical treatments as needed. That facility was nowhere near full, but wouldn’t it be a hell of a target compared to what was left here? Why attack five reactors when there was a convenient supply of mako all in one place?

Barret called Tseng. “Tseng, I think we might be at the wrong place.”

“We are,” Tseng snapped. “I just got an urgent call from Midgar General. Something just crashed through the barriers at the medical mako reserve building.”

“Dammit,” Barret grumbled.

“On our way,” Cloud said, and snapped his PHS closed.

\--

From the outside of the mako storage building, nothing was obviously on fire, which was a good sign. However, Reeve seemed to be up to his eyebrows trying to evacuate the immediate vicinity.

“We’ve got her pinned down in the storage locker,” he explained upon their arrival. “No one’s dead yet and we’re trying hard to keep it that way.”

“On it.” Cloud flipped him a casual salute and headed into the building, Barret and Tifa close behind.

Screams and the sounds of shattering glass and objects being thrown greeted them from halfway down the hall. WRO emergency responders crouched around the doorway, one or two daring to take a shot into the store room. Each time they did, angry shrieks shook the walls and something else got broken. Kneeling next to one of the soldiers, Barret tried to follow their line of sight.

Perched atop one of the shelves was Lucrecia- or maybe it was Chaos. It was hard to say from sight alone. The costume was similar to Vincent’s, but with some more notable feminine touches. Instead of black, Lucrecia’s outfit was mostly white, but it was the white of bone, with eerie accents of pink and violet similar to raw flesh. Wings folded, she had a tray of test tubes full of mako. Popping the tops, she was downing them like whiskey shots one after the other.

“We’re in position,” Barret mumbled into his PHS. “I’m goin’ in.”

He edged toward the door, being careful to keep to the walls. Lucrecia took no notice of him, gulping the mako and casting the glass vials aside to shatter on the floor. Cloud and Tifa snuck in behind him, but unless Lucrecia came down, they weren’t going to be able to get a hit in. Only Barret carried a long-range weapon, so if she took off, it would be up to him to bring her down.

“Should we try asking nicely first?” Tifa asked. Cloud shrugged.

“Excuse me?” Tifa called. “Dr. Crescent? Would you mind maybe not drinking the mako and coming down off the shelf?”

Lucrecia turned to look, an unimpressed expression on her face. However, as she took in the three of them, indifference morphed into something so much worse.

“ _You…_ ” she growled, the single word thick with venom. “It was the three of you. You killed my son.”

Cloud blinked, bewildered. “How does she even know that?”

No one was given the chance to speculate much less answer. Wings snapping open, Lucrecia dove from the shelf straight toward them.

“LOCK THE VAULT!” Cloud shouted over his shoulder to Tifa. She hurried to shove the heavy metal door of the storage locker closed. Lucrecia might have drunk several cases, but at least they wouldn’t break any more vials by accident.

Fighting in such a cramped space was awkward at best. Despite her wingspan, Lucrecia darted here and there, too fast to track. She carried no weapon, but launched volley after volley of magic spells at them, leaving singe marks across the walls. It wasn’t easy to keep out of the way; almost impossible to counter-attack. Without long-range materia, Cloud and Tifa weren’t able to help much other than to draw her fire while Barret took a shot. The first few didn’t seem to affect her; perhaps he hadn’t hit her at all. As she dove for Cloud and Tifa, talons poised, Barret opened fire and was rewarded with a dull ‘CRACK’ and a shriek of pain.

Lucrecia plummeted to the floor, hitting the linoleum with a sickening smack. One wing hung at an odd angle, clearly broken. It took her a moment to peel herself off the tile and look up. She regarded them with a dazed sort of bewilderment for a moment. As a group they watched bemused as her wings withered and shrank, and her crest and armor vanished. They had engaged a she-demon, a feminine version of Chaos, but now a petite woman barely dressed in tattered strips of discolored white fabric sat crying in the middle of the floor.

“Dr. Crescent, I presume?” said Cloud. Lucrecia did not respond. She stared at Cloud for a moment more before she abruptly collapsed sideways, unconscious.

Barret took a step back and lowered his gun arm. “Well damn,” he mused, not at all sure what to make of this turn of events.

Tifa cast an uncertain look at the boys. “Now what?”

Cloud exchanged an uneasy glance with Barret. His brain said to shoot her in the face, to run her through and put her out of her misery. His heart however…

“We...kinda did. Kill her son. I mean…” he trailed off awkwardly and shrugged.

“I’m gettin’ too old for this shit,” Barret sighed. “You two really wanna take the crazy bat lady home?”

“We can’t just leave her here,” Tifa put in. “Wouldn’t it be better to keep an eye on her?”

“You both lost yo’ damn minds,” Barret grumbled, and stooped to heft Lucrecia in his arms. “Somebody get her a blanket. I’m not carrying her out there like this.”

“There’s a first aid kit in the hall,” said Tifa. “Let me check.” 

She returned in a few minutes with a mylar blanket and helped Barret wrap it around Lucrecia’s emaciated body. Lucrecia never stirred, though she continued to breathe.

“We’d better get her to the hospital,” said Cloud. “Or the WRO infirmary, somewhere secure. I’ll let Reeve and Tseng know they can stand down.”

By the time they got to the exit, a medical team stood waiting for them with a gurney. A pair of burly EMT’s loaded her into a van. The men looked quite capable of subduing her should she give them any trouble, but Tifa didn’t think that likely. Lucrecia was as white as the rags she wore, and so thin that the blue tracery of veins under her skin was clearly visible. Her breathing was shallow, heartbeat oddly erratic. 

Her chances of surviving long enough to answer questions seemed poor at best.


	6. Defeated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's all coming back to her.

Chaos had not expected _that_. Few things could distract his mortal from her mako feast, but the three humans Valentine had once called friends had managed to do it. She had not simply forgotten her hunger, she had flown into a blind rage. Such anger, such sorrow had surged within her that he was shocked by it. After several thousand years, not much shocked him. Lucrecia had. In vain he had tried to seize the reins, to hold her back- not because he cared for the lives of Valentine’s friends, but because she was too fragile to engage in a fight- and found himself cast aside and dismissed. Try as he might, he could not wrest control from her. It wasn’t as if he were fighting with her, either. She had forgotten him entirely, seizing his power and channeling her anger and pain into blast after blast of magic. Apparently the fury of a woman scorned was nothing compared to the wrath of a mother deprived of her child.

That they had not killed her outright surprised him. Then again, mortals were foolishly sentimental about these things. Chaos certainly wasn’t going to complain. Lucrecia was proving to be full of hidden talents, and he was not ready to abandon his vessel before he had discovered all of her secrets. 

\--

Midgar General wasn’t wild about having their vandal remain in the building, but no patient would be turned away for any reason. Therefore, Lucrecia Crescent was admitted, along with a couple of WRO guards. Cloud, Tifa, and Barret followed once the mako storage facility had been secured. If Chaos manifested again, they would need to subdue her before she did any damage to the hospital.

She didn’t look like much of a threat now, Barret thought. In his arms she had felt feather-light; all angles and too easy to break if he wasn’t careful. It had almost been like carrying Marlene when she was small. He’d been so afraid his big hands and powerful arms would hurt her no matter how cautious he was.

Although she’d tried to kill him and the others only hours ago, it struck him as excessive that they should cuff her to the bedrails. Indeed, her wrists were so bony and narrow, the WRO guards had had to use plastic zip ties rather than metal handcuffs. Chaos might break the thick strips of plastic, but Lucrecia never would.

“Is this her?”

Barret turned as Reeve entered the room. “Yeah.”

Reeve shook his head, wondering. “All for love of a woman,” he mused.

“Pretty sure there was more to it than that,” Cloud commented, he and Tifa following Reeve into the room a moment later. “At least she’s contained. What will you do with her?”

Reeve, who usually had an answer for everything, opened his mouth, paused, and closed it again. “I suppose we’ll have to wait and see once she wakes up- if she wakes up. We don’t know how lucid she’ll be, or what kind of control she has over Chaos, if any.”

“An’ if she don’t?” Barret asked.

Reeve shrugged. “I truly don’t know. Can one contain a force of nature? If that’s the case, we’ll have to find a way.”

\--

Of all the people who might find themselves under her care, Shalua had not thought that Dr. Lucrecia Crescent would be one of them. Although not a medical doctor, Shalua was the foremost expert on all things mako, and so she’d been called in to consult on Dr. Crescent’s treatment. Tseng had provided her with what little information there was to be had. She wished she’d had it during the compilation of Dr. Crescent’s thesis. Well, the next edition could feature Lucrecia’s photo. It was time people remembered the person as well as the achievement.

The medical staff had given Dr. Crescent a preliminary physical, but the results were...inconclusive. Shalua had only one other experience in dealing with a materia-augmented patient who ought to be dead but wasn’t. Vincent had been a reluctant patient, and her treatment of him had been limited, but at least it was a place to start. Vincent had been what he referred to as “mostly-dead, partly-alive”. He had only had a heartbeat when he remembered, did not require food, and rather than sleep, fell into a sort of hibernative state that gave the appearance of mako stasis or- if one didn’t know what to look for- death.

Dr. Crescent still had a pulse, though it was weak and erratic. Then again, the materia was not standing in for her heart. Shalua could just make out the faint white glow beneath the hospital smock between Dr. Crescent’s breasts. Her breathing was even, if shallow, with no immediate signs of dropping off. Considering she’d been in mako stasis for almost fifty years, she appeared to be in good shape. What Shalua could not understand was how quickly Dr. Crescent had revived. It had taken Vincent the best part of thirty years to sleep off what had been done to him. It wasn’t because of Chaos. Vincent had had the materia in his body prior to his trials at the hands of Professor Hojo. For reasons unknown, Dr. Crescent had been able to metabolize her mako saturation much more quickly. Perhaps the phenomenon could be attributed to the difference between dark and light mako? She would have to ask her when she woke.

\--

It took Lucrecia a moment to blink herself awake, to orient. Once she had, she wished she was still asleep. The room was unfamiliar, but there was no mistaking where she was. The metal bed, antiseptic white walls, a drop ceiling dotted with tiny holes, polished linoleum floors, and a cadre of quietly beeping machines all pointed to one thing: hospital. An intravenous tube trailed from her arm; another obvious clue. She tried to shift, to sit up, but found her wrists lashed to the bedrails. Why? Why was she here? Why had she been restrained?

And then it all came flooding back.

Someone must have found her after she passed out. She’d been taken to the lab for treatment. Oh gods Hojo was going to be furious. He would never let her forget what she’d tried to do, never let her hear the end of this particular failure. Failure, failure, failure. Everything she tried ended in failure. She could not stay here. She had to get away. Tied like this, there was no way she could defend herself. Struggling feebly, Lucrecia tugged and pulled at the restraints, but only succeeded in pulling on the IV line. This set one of the machines beeping and a nurse soon came into the room.

“Oh!” The nurse sounded surprised. Lucrecia did not recognize her, which was strange. She had thought she knew everyone on the medical support team. “You’re awake. How are you feeling?”

Lucrecia did not answer right away, shying back as the nurse reset the needle in her elbow.

“No,” Lucrecia protested, voice small and scratchy. “Don’t.”

“Sorry,” the nurse apologized, applying a fresh bandage over the needle. “It wasn’t easy to find a vein. You were in rough shape when you were admitted. Can you hold still for me?”

“No!” Lucrecia cried again as the nurse reached for her. “Don’t touch me!”

“I just want to take your vitals…”

“ _NO!_ ” she screamed. “ _Get back! NO!_ ”

The machines began to beep and blare as she struggled. The nurse slapped a button on the wall which set off another alarm. Two more nurses rushed into the room. They descended on her, pinning her to the mattress. Lucrecia screamed, struggled, kicked, but it was no use. She felt the needle pierce the skin of her upper arm. Defeated, she lay back and cried. There was no escaping this. She would lie here until they were through with her, and only Hojo could say when that might be. She was no more than another subject, a specimen, something to be poked and prodded in the name of science. There was no escape; not from this bed, not from the project.

The sedative rolled over her like a fog, and she surrendered to its blessed oblivion willingly.

\--

“And this has happened how many times?” Shalua asked.

“Today makes five,” the nurse admitted. “Every time she becomes lucid enough to interact, she has a melt-down. Everyone’s afraid she’s either going to hurt herself, trip a limit break and hurt someone else, or a combination of both.”

“I see.”

Dr. Crescent lay silent for the moment. According to the medical staff, she’d been that way for the last few days. The last time she’d awoken, she’d panicked and tried to break free of her restraints. This would not be cause for concern except Dr. Crescent carried the Chaos materia and had already caused quite of bit of damage while in that monstrous form. She didn’t look very dangerous now. It was hard to believe this little woman had already killed six people.

The medical staff had called Shalua in because now they couldn’t get Dr. Crescent to wake up at all. After her last incident she’d been heavily sedated, but that had been several days ago. Looking at her, Shalua already had a guess as to what the problem was. Dr. Crescent’s dingy skin and dull, muddy eye color were highly indicative of mako withdrawal. Her blood tests proved it. However, that did not solve the problem of her cycle of panic attacks.

What she needed was an ambassador to this strange new world, preferably someone she already knew. The only problem with this, was that Dr. Crescent had no contemporaries left; no friends, no relatives, she had nothing and no one. Well...perhaps that wasn’t strictly true.

“You want us to _what?_ ” Cloud asked.

“I want you to visit Dr. Crescent,” Shalua repeated. “She’s not doing well. I think it would help if she could interact with someone she recognizes, even if it’s someone she doesn’t particularly like.”

“You do remember she tried to kill us the last time we were all in the same room,” Cloud reminded her.

“I’m aware,” Shalua replied, straight faced. “I have confidence in your ability to defend yourselves. I also have confidence that you can help her ground herself in the present, even if the experience isn’t pleasant for anyone involved.”

Cloud, Tifa, and Barret exchanged glances.

“I’ll go,” Tifa volunteered. “She might be more receptive to another woman.”

Shalua nodded. “Thank you, that’s what I was thinking. I’ll have the nursing staff contact you once she’s stable and able to receive visitors.”

\--

Lucrecia had been in her early twenties when she was assumed dead. The petite woman in the too-big hospital smock looked more like an underfed teenager. Her face, however, had the same eerie agelessness that Vincent’s had once held; both youthful and ancient at once. Whether that was due to Chaos, or all the mako that Lucrecia and Vincent had received over the years, or both, Tifa didn’t know.

She lifted her head a fraction as Tifa entered the room. Lucrecia pulled feebly at her restraints and tried to shy away. Rather than come closer, Tifa pulled up one of the hard plastic chairs and sat down. According to the nurses, Lucrecia had been heavily sedated, but Tifa didn’t want to frighten her needlessly.

“Dr. Crescent,” Tifa began, keeping her voice soft and even, “my name is Tifa Strife. Do you know who I am?”

Lucrecia looked at her for a long moment. “You killed him… Killed my son.”

Tifa nodded, unable to help the heavy feeling of guilt inside. “Yes. I’m sorry. Truly, I am. I wish there could have been another way. It’s been twenty years since Meteor Fall, but it’s not the sort of thing you forget easily.”

Dirty green tears welled up in Lucrecia’s eyes, spilling over and leaving discolored streaks down her pale cheeks. Turning, she looked over and studied Tifa’s face.

“I could watch sometimes, through his eyes when he was hurt or in trouble.” Although the pronunciation was a bit fuzzy, the thoughts were clear. “I saw almost every day he spent in Wutai. I was with him every day of that last year, right up to the end…”

Tifa opened her mouth to apologize but, Lucrecia spoke first.

“You were younger then,” Lucrecia said, reaching af if to touch Tifa’s face. “You were still very much a girl, but you’re a woman now.”

Tifa nodded. “Cloud and I have a family and a restaurant together. He cooks, I bartend, Denzel helps on weekends, so do our other children.”

Lucrecia did not respond to that right away. For a long time she lay silent, contemplating the ceiling.

“Twenty years,” she mused. “Why did they send you? Why not Vincent? Didn’t he want to see me?”

“Dr. Crescent…” For a moment Tifa floundered, unwilling to inflict more bad news, but without a better answer to give. “I’m so sorry, but Vincent’s dead. Both he and Veld passed away last autumn.”

It was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. Silence settled cold and heavy over both women, as dense and deafening as the vacuum of space. Tears streamed down Lucrecia’s face, though she made no sound. Hesitantly, Tifa reached and took her hand. Surprisingly, Lucrecia gripped her fingers in turn.

“You tell me it’s been twenty years since my son died,” Lucrecia began, voice small and brittle, “a year since Vincent and Veld passed… Nothing is familiar anymore, but I can’t quite believe that so much time has gone by. I can’t help but think that I must still be dreaming; will always be dreaming. This is a nightmare from which I will never wake.”

Vincent had never complained, gods rest his soul, but he’d said things like that more than once. It had been hard for him, so hard. Not until he’d met up with his old partner had he begun to look up and to smile again. Not that Vincent ever smiled much, but some of the sadness had gone out of his unearthly red eyes. She wished he were here now. Even if he and Lucrecia could not find happiness, she would have liked for them to have found closure. Apparently even that was not meant to be.

“I’m sorry,” Tifa said, resting a hand on the older woman’s narrow shoulder. “I don’t know how to prove to you that this is real, that this is the world now. I can’t imagine what you’re feeling, and I want you to know that I’m sorry for my role in things.”

Lucrecia nodded mechanically. “You did what you had to. Sephiroth...he wasn’t himself. Hadn’t been for a long time. For ages I could hear him calling and calling for me but I could not help him…” She swallowed hard, more dirty green tears escaping from the corners of her eyes. “I know you did what you had to, that there was no other way to stop him. I’m not angry at you personally, not anymore.”

But that didn’t make it hurt less. If anything, it probably made it hurt more. More than anything, Tifa wanted to hug this poor woman close and tell her it would be all right. Except she could not promise such a thing, and it was unlikely Lucrecia would want such attention from a stranger. 

“Are you going to kill me?”

Tifa blinked, having not expected that. “No. Capital punishment in Midgar went out with Shinra. No one’s quite sure what to do with you, to be honest. Right now...we just want you to get well, so we can figure out what to do next.”

Lucrecia pulled her fingers from Tifa’s and turned away. “You’d do better to put me down. There’s no guarantee I won’t cause any more trouble unless I’m dead.”

It was eerie to hear Vincent’s words from Lucrecia’s mouth. He’d said things like that, had turned his gun on himself more than once despite knowing it wouldn’t do anything. Their mission had kept him going for a little while, but he hadn’t truly tried to live again until after discovering Veld was still alive. Who was there left for Lucrecia? She wanted to argue, wanted to insist that she was wrong, but Tifa found herself without a case to present. Besides, she could not speak for the WRO, and Lucrecia’s fate would ultimately be in their hands. Not knowing what else to do, she got up and left.


	7. Postpartum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We know Lucrecia survived Sepihroth's birth.  
> What we don't know, is for how long?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for self-harm, implied rape, DIY abortion, and suggested suicide.  
> All of which happens off-camera.

_She was past crying. All her tears had been spent, whatever she might have had left had dried up. It wasn’t worth shedding any more. Ever the scientist, Lucrecia had tried ninety-nine different ways to solve the problem, to change the variables, to produce a different outcome, but none of her efforts had worked. There was only one left to try._

_‘That’s all you’re good for,’ Hojo’s mocking words circled inside her head._

_‘What other use is a woman in such a project?’_

_‘A fool could see that would never work.’_

_‘You won’t put the review board to sleep, they’ll be laughing too hard at your theories.’_

_‘You weren’t too good for the Turk.’_

_She remembered the last line, spoken low and hot in her ear, his face too close to hers as she’d tried to shy away. But he’d threatened to tell Gast, to tell Shinra. She had no choice but to agree and keep her silence. She tried to think of something else, tried to pretend he was Vincent, but that only made it worse. The best she could say about it was that she’d somehow managed to keep from crying. Not until it was over, after she’d put herself back together did she react at all. She’d calmly walked to the washroom and vomited, then spent more than an hour in the bath scrubbing herself raw._

_‘You wouldn’t be here without me.’_

_‘You are nothing on your own.’_

_‘That’s ridiculous, why would you even think that?’_

_‘Your son? His mother is Jenova. You were no more than the vessel.’_

_He was never openly cruel, never demeaning her in front of the rest of the staff. Hojo was too smart for that. Instead he needled and jabbed at her with the smallest of insults, stabbing like syringes into the still-bleeding scars that Vincent and Sephiroth had left in her heart. It had taken an unusually long time for her to stop bleeding after Sephiroth’s birth, but the truth was that her heart still bled for both of them. She was not allowed near the isolet where her baby slept. He was fed her milk in bottles by a nurse, one of the licensed caregivers. She had not taken the childcare courses or received the certifications required to handle the precious infant. She was only his mother. She was only allowed to watch through the window in the door._

_‘And you call me unethical.’_

_‘How is your specimen? Experiments coming along, are they?’_

_‘Is he still breathing?’_

_‘Do you suppose he’ll still want you after what you did to him?’_

_‘Yes, do whatever it takes, never mind what he wants.’_

_‘If nothing else he’ll prove useful to the anatomy students once you’re through with him.’_

_Vincent became the only project she was truly allowed to work on, but all her efforts, all the desperation and tears she had lavished on him had yielded almost nothing. He was breathing, but that was about all that could be said. The Chaos materia she’d placed in his chest had kept him alive- mostly- but she could not get him to wake up. Because she could not sit with Sephiroth, she often sat with Vincent, pouring out her troubles to him. She knew he could not hear her. If he could, she would not have spent so much time sobbing in confession. Vincent might be a Turk, but he had a tender heart. She did not want him to think this mess was in any way his fault. It was all her own doing._

_‘I could tell the board. I won’t, however. That would ruin your career- what’s left of it, anyway. You might still have a future as a tech, as a clerk. Easy work. Women’s work. You could still write your fairy stories, they might make for good children’s literature. Not every published writer has work in scholarly journals, after all._

_‘I won’t tell Gast how you disgraced yourself with the Turk, that the Cetra child we worked so hard to create is the bastard of a psychopath. I won’t tell the board of directors that you’re a slut who uses her body to achieve success. That would get you kicked off the project, out of Shinra, out of research in general, and we wouldn’t want that._

_‘Did you know Shinra’s authorized additional specimens? More Cetra children, brothers and sisters to keep Sephiroth company. We’ll do it properly this time. No accidents. No mistakes.’_

_The mistake had been expecting anyone to come to her rescue. It was not fair to have put so much on Vincent. He had done the best he could, this was not his fault, it was hers._

_Vincent’s room had remained largely untouched since the incident, but Lucrecia knew where he’d hidden a bottle of whiskey. She gagged and coughed at its sharp burn, but made herself swallow it anyway. The liquor was strong, and she felt more than a little concussed by the time she’d finished the glass. She only hoped her hands would be steady enough to do what was needed._

_She had tried every variable, everything she could think of, but the one constant in her failures had remained unchanged: herself. She had wrought so much pain, so much injury. She deserved punishment, but was too weak to take it. Hojo knew her secret and would lord it over her for as long as she lived. She would have no role in her son’s life. Vincent would die no matter what she did. The only option was simple: she must remove herself from the equation. No, not just herself, something else had to be removed as well._

_Never had Lucrecia been so terrified of one vomiting spell. Except she hadn’t bled for over a month, and the nausea had been getting worse. She’d slit her own throat before she abandoned another child to this cursed project. However, such a maneuver would be messy, and she doubted she had the will to do it. Instead she stared down the hook of the wire coat hanger, thought briefly about sterilizing it first, and then remembered it didn’t matter._

_Nothing mattered. She just needed to make it **stop**._

_\--_

_“I knew you were foolish,” Hojo mused. “I didn’t think you were stupid...”_

_He should do something. Check for signs of life, maybe, except it was obvious she wasn’t breathing. The impressive pool of deep red blood- still fresh and bright- flooding the floor around her was also highly indicative of fatality. Lucrecia lay face-down in it, her clothes, skin, and hair steeped and stained with red._

_This was going to be very difficult to clean up._

_Gast would be furious. Devastated. Hojo would never hear the end of it._

_Bleach. Yes, bleach. He’d need a lot of bleach. And a mop. And a bucket. And something in which to dispose the body. Perhaps he could hide her among the cadavers at the University dissection lab until he could think of something to do with her. It seemed Lucrecia was destined to cause trouble, even when dead._


End file.
